


Battlestar Hyacinth

by colonelmoran



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Ending, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonelmoran/pseuds/colonelmoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, howdy there, all you Viper pilots and no-good, dirty Cylon lovers. This is your faithful servant colonelmoran. Buckle up and prep for emergency jump, because you are about experience the textual narrative of what I think I can safely describe as the greatest fan-conceived BSG's spin-off/alternate ending ever. I speak of…BATTLESTAR HYACINTH!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contact

Through the dark vastness of space, the ship drifted. Distant starlight gleamed on the scarred metal of its hull, making it seem—for an instant—like a living thing, a scaled pike perhaps, an hunter in its element. Though the Commander could not have seen this, he was nevertheless aware, on some primal level, of a thrill of predatory energy as he stood upon the bridge, eyes fixed on the humming monitors.

"Sir, we have contact on DRADIS," confirmed Lieutenant Nayak.

"How many?"

"Two Basestars and a full compliment of raiders, Commander."

"It seems Cavil's realized what we're up to," opined Colonel Beaumont. "He's instituted a buddy system."

"We'll see how far that gets him," grunted the commander. "Tell Viper squads one and two to get their birds in the air. Are the bugs prepped?"

"Standing by, Commander."

"Then I want them to engage as soon as they see our first boy's nose poke out of the hangar. Heavy bugs are to launch with the Raptors, as per usual."

"Commander Adama, we have incoming," Nayak almost barked, "They've spotted us."

"Very well," snarled Zak. "Let's remind them why they fear the Battlestar Hyacinth."

 

Daniel gunned the engine of his Viper and shot out of the Hyacinth's hangar like arrow, the rest of his squadron flowing in his wake. Part of him was exulting inwardly. As Hyacinth's CAG he rarely had the chance to fly actual missions any more, but fighting two Basestars meant that they needed every bird pilot they could lay hands on. That mental choice of words made Daniel's pale skin tingle, not unpleasantly. After he got back from this, he and the Commander could…

"Septimus, this Juno. We're ready to launch boarding parties on your mark. Over."

Daniel, call sign Septimus, cursed himself for losing focus. If he didn't keep his mind on the battle before him, there would be no afterwards. "Copy that, Juno. Give us a minute to punch a hole. Over."

The Vipers spread out in formation, swooping towards the Cylon Basestars like a shoal of sharks. Their way was blocked however, by an oncoming wave of raiders, their red eyes glowing. Both sides opened fire, filling the blackness of the void with streaks of light. For an instant it seemed like the sheer number of the raiders would overwhelm them. Daniel swung his bird around hard to the left, narrowly avoiding a spray of enemy fire. He wheeled back, trying to lock on to his attacker, but was forced to evade again as two more raiders bore down on him. Then, to Daniel's relief, a hail of fire from somewhere behind him, scythed into his assailants' hulls. A second wave of raiders had arrived on the scene, this time coming from the direction of the Hyacinth.

These were the Hyacinth's secondary fighter corps, known informally as 'bugs', and marked with white paint to distinguish them for the benefit of their human allies. They fastened magnetically to the underside of the Battlestar, like so many roosting bats, only to peel away and viciously attack anything that seemed likely to threaten their adopted home. Together, raiders and Vipers pounded the enemy, scattering their ranks and routing them. Daniel knew that the emotional range of Cavil's raiders had been severely curtailed by his brutal "repairs", but he still had to wonder whether they were demoralized on some level to being doing battle with their own kind.

He remembered the first raider they had freed, during the hellish months they'd spent back on Tauron. For a moment, he lived that day again…

_Zak Adama crept along the streets of Minos, keeping close to the wall of the alley, his head low and his sidearm out. Daniel followed along behind, frequently glancing back over his shoulder to make sure they were not being pursued. On their backs they carried laden packs, filled with the spoils of the riskiest of foraging ventures: canned foods, bottled water, toothpaste, and _—_ most importantly _—_ radiation medicine._

_"_ _We're almost out," Zak assured him, his voice a husky whisper. He was an athletic man, with a square jaw and blue grey eyes. The months on the run had leaned out the roundness of his cheeks and grown his dark hair into an untidy mop. "The bridge is on the next street and then its less than a hundred yards to the gorge."_

 _"_ _All right," Daniel replied. "Let's do it."_

_The two broke into a loping run. There was no cover to be had on the broad thoroughfare that lead out of the city and with every step he took Daniel could imagine red Cylon eyes boring into the back of his neck. They made it to the bridge, an uninspiring concrete platform that spanned a greenish creek, without incident but when they were perhaps two thirds of the way across its length they heard above them the mechanical roar of a raider._

_"_ _Down!" screamed Zak and threw himself sideways, rolling as he hit the ground. Daniel didn't need telling twice; he dropped and rolled himself to the right. A round from the raider's rail gun smashed into the asphalt where he had stood and spattered his stolen clothes with black, pebbly gunk. Zak was back on his feet as the raider swooped off and away from the city, preparatory for wheeling about for a second pass. He took up a shooters stance and fired. The sidearm's short barrel was never meant to hit a target at such a range, but Zak—though a lousy pilot—was a crack shot. The explosive round, capable of punching through an armored car or splattering the braincase of Cylon centurion, connected with the raider's left wing with a deafening blast. The flying machine wobbled in the air and then dropped like a stone to land in the gorge just outside the city._

 _"_ _The whole city will have heard that," Daniel warned._

_Zak nodded. "Let's get out of here."_

_The two dashed towards the gorge as fast as they could and plunged over the lip, out of sight. To their dismay, they found that what had been a steep and sandy _—_ but passable _—_ slope on their approach, had been peppered by shrapnel from the downed raider, reducing it a morass of shifting scree. Zak seized a weedy tree to steady himself and grabbed for Daniel's hand, dropping his gun in the process, but it was too late. Daniel lost his footing and slithered down the side of the gorge to land heavily, exactly within the steely semicircle of the fallen raider's wings. Horribly, the creature's long red eye still glowed with life and it swept now to orient on Daniel. He froze, like a hare suddenly faced with a prowling fox. One shot from the thing's weapon systems and he would be nothing but a streak of gore and soot._

_"_ _Daniel!" Zak screamed, fear making his voice crack, but he was still knee deep in sliding sand, unable to come to his lover's aid. The raider's gaze bored into Daniel, who returned it levelly, unblinking, though he could feel not just his heart but his guts seizing with an animal terror._

_Then raider shuddered and let out a low sound, halfway between the noise of cooling metal and a cat's purr. Its eye did not change color or cease to focus, but something—malice maybe, or anger—seemed to have gone out of it. Slowly, Daniel stood up and, limping slightly, approached the raider. Very slowly, he reached out and rested one hand on the steel ledge of the thing's brow. It made the curious thrumming noise again._

_"_ _Hey Zak," said Daniel, hardly trusting his voice, "I think it likes me."_

Back in the here and now, Daniel pushed such thoughts aside and pressed a button on his Viper's radio transceiver and relayed, "You're cleared to go, Juno. Good hunting. Over."

"Copy that, Septimus," Lieutenant Hoff, call sign Juno, replied. "Over."

 

Now a second wave of ships poured forth from the hangars of the Hyacinth: two teams of three Raptors, flying in tight formation, with a heavy raider bringing up the rear. All held a mix of veteran marines and liberated Cylon centurions. Back on the bridge, Lieutenant Nayak turned to the Zak.

"Sir, the enemy raiders are broken and our boarding parties are away."

"Excellent. Then, I want four of our anti-ship missiles launched immediately. Target the rear and aft weapon systems of each Basestar. I don't want our boys filled full of flak before they can get aboard."

"Right away, commander."

 

Daniel saw the blooms of fire as the missiles connected with the ships. He jabbed at his radio. "This is squad leader Septimus. I want every bird without a raider on your actual tail to move up and fly a wide escort around the raiding parties. Over."

Vipers and raiders scrambled to obey. Stray raiders and the odd shot from the light guns still functioning on the Basestars whizzed towards them and the ships they defended, forcing Daniel to remain alert, but not seriously threatening the operation. Soon the Raptors and heavy raiders had attached to their assigned Basestars and were off-loading their cargoes of soldiery. Daniel allowed himself to relax slightly. The strikes teams knew the drill. With most of the centurions lost to the revolt, the interior would be lightly defended at best. The troops would punch through to the hybrid, fast and vicious, and then introduce it to the specialized computer virus that he and Lt. Nayak had created. Then it would be all over but the kicking. Unfortunately, they had found that Daniel could not liberate Cavil's lobotomized raiders, but at least it would mean fewer enemies for them to fight another day.

Then Daniel's radio buzzed. "Septimus, this is Hyacinth actual. Something's happened. Can you return the Battlestar? Over."

"Probably, Zak. What's going on? Over."

"One of the long range scouts, the one's we had fitted with Cylon jump tech, just hopped back. They've found the fleet. We've found my father. Over."


	2. Reunion

"How many more jumps?" asked Daniel.

"Two," Zak replied. There was tension written in every line of his body as he stood at his desk. He set down the empty whiskey glass. A slight tremble in his hand made it clink loudly. "I should get going."

"We don't have to do this right now," Daniel offered. "We could wait, give everyone some time to rest up after that fight…"

Zak shook his head. "They might have jumped away by then. We can't risk it."

"We could find them again, have the scouts check all likely star systems within a single jump range."

"No. Headlong said that they had a Basestar with them."

"Cavil's revolutionaries?"

"Must be. But if they have Cylon jump tech..."

"They still couldn't outdistance the Hyacinth."

"We don't know that. Maybe what the Cylons can set up is just plain better than our jury-rigged versions."

"Zak, I am a Cylon," Daniel insisted.

Zak turned to look at him, a strange light in his blue-grey eyes. "I remember."

 

_"_ _Usil, Mooncalf, you two are cleared for takeoff. Over." The voice that crackled over Zak's radio was efficient, but clearly bored by the proceedings._

_"_ _Copy that, Mercury," Zak's patrol partner, Ryan "Mooncalf" Darcy, replied. "We're on our way. Over."_

_Beside him, in the hangar bay of the Battlestar Mercury, Mooncalf powered up his Viper's engines and swept off smoothly towards the open launch doors. Zak followed him, somewhat less smoothly. He loved the openness of space, the infinite silence of it, and just as much he loved the camaraderie of his fellow soldiers. But his Viper…was another story. The ship seemed to resent him. He'd struggled his way through flight school under Kara Thrace, fighting the machine every step of the way. Even now, after a few years as a full pilot, the metal bird felt disagreeably clumsy._

_"_ _Okay Usil," Mooncalf reminded him, "This is just a routine flyby. We'll take a look at that asteroid, see if there's anything interesting. Keep your weapons systems powered down unless I instruct otherwise. Over."_

 _"_ _Copy that, Mooncalf," Zak replied. He trusted his more experienced partner's judgment. "Over."_

_The asteroid in question was a large one, near the outer border of Gemenese space. Smaller bits of detritus orbited it like tiny satellites. Zak picked his way between these as best he could, trying to keep up with Mooncalf._

_"_ _Hey Usil, bring your bird up here and take a look at this. Over."_

_Zak frowned in concentration. "What is it, Mooncalf? Over."_

_"_ _Metal veining in the asteroid. The luster looks like tylium to me. Over."_

_Zak's eyes widened. Tylium was the radioactive ore used to fuel the long-range ships such as the Battlestars. Besides packing a phenomenal amount of energy, its strange scientific properties made it the only viable means of powering an FTL jump drive._

_"_ _Hang on, I'm coming. O…Frack!"_

_As Zak turned an uncomfortably sharp corner, a great plume of icy vapor spouted from the asteroid beside him and a chunk of space rock the size an apartment building broke loose like an iceberg calving. Perhaps the heat of his Viper's engine had weakened an ice wedge within some hidden fissure. Whatever the case, he was in real trouble now. The fragment plunged towards Zak's Viper in deceptive slow motion. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator only to discover that it had been the brake._

_"_ _Frack," Zak swore, quietly this time. And then rock hit him._

_The Viper was struck side on and slightly closer to the tail of the ship than the nose. Thus the first thing to be impacted was the Viper's wing, specifically the wing mounted missile launcher. There was horrible metallic crunching and then a blinding flash. The white light filled Zak Adama's world, not just his eyes but his mind. He could taste its brilliance, smell its starkness, feel the heat of it course through his blood, and hear it chime like vast church bells impossible far away._

_Zak's Viper, one wing crushed and burning, hit the ground with a thud. This surprised Zak. There shouldn't have been ground in space. There shouldn't have been a Viper left. Frack, he shouldn't been alive to feel the thud. But since he was alive, he decided he wanted to stay that way. With an effort, he popped up the top of the Viper and half clambered, half slid out of the cockpit. Even by the dim light of the burning spacecraft, he could see that he was in some kind of huge room. A warehouse, maybe?_

_Zak fumbled in the pocket of his flight suit until he came up the pencil thin emergency flashlight he'd been issued with. He clicked it on and examined the reading on wrist monitor. According to the device, the air was breathable. He slipped off his helmet and began to walk, limping slightly, away from his smoldering craft. He swept the narrow beam of the flashlight up and down, trying to get a sense for his surroundings. The warehouse guess didn't seem to have been a bad one. A wide and empty concrete floor stretched out on every side. But there was something strange about the walls and ceiling. They seemed to have been hewn from solid rock._

_"_ _I'm underground," Zak said aloud. His voice echoed back at him from the stone. He took another step and his foot caught on a long cable running across the floor. He turned, and aimed his light down the way the cord led. A dark shape loomed up, several yards away, like an island. Cautiously, Zak approached it. It was a strange looking device, somewhere between a high tech coffin and a particularly somber therapeutic bath, covered by a tinted dome, but with an exposed control panel at one end. He studied the controls carefully then pushed a green button. With a whir, the dark glass slid back and the room was filled a pearly light._

_The light came from the bed of the device, which indeed seemed to be some sort of bath, almost filled a viscous gel. In it lay a man, submerged up to the neck. He was fair-skinned and whipcord lean, with an elfin face framed by a cascade of ruddy gold hair. His eyes were closed and his breathing slow. He was, Zak considered, very beautiful._

_Without thinking, Zak pressed a second button. The machine whirred somewhere inside its mechanism and the light from the bath intensified. The eyes of the man in the vat flew open. They were a startling and icy green._

_"_ _No! Not again!" the man spluttered as he struggled to sit up. The clear gel slithered off his naked limbs. Then he seemed to become aware of his surroundings. His movements became less frantic, but the tension did not leave his body._

_"_ _Where am I?" he asked._

_"_ _Good question," Zak replied. "Also, who are you?"_

_"_ _I'm…" the man hesitated. "Did Ellen send you? Are you one of the later models?"_

_"_ _Models?" said Zak, nonplussed. "Listen, I'm Lt. Adama. I don't what's going on here, but…"_

_"_ _A human?" the man said. "Does the war continue then? Am I a prisoner"_

_"_ _Which war?"_

_"_ _Between humans and…wait, how long was I in shut-down?"_

_"_ _Shut-down? Wait a minute, are you…" Zak's hand flew to his sidearm._

_"_ _Don't!" said the man, "It's not what you think."_

_"_ _What is it then?" asked Zak. "What is this place?"_

_"_ _I have no ide…no, that's not true. I remember." A strange and worrying look passed across the man's elfin face._

_"_ _So you do know where we are?"_

_"_ _Tauron. We're in secret bunker under the Tauron desert."_

_"_ _That's ridiculous."_

_"It's true."_

_"_ _How do you know?"_

_"_ _Ellen, my mother, brought me here. I'm the last of my kind, the only one she could save. She had to hide me, somewhere safe. It couldn't be on the Colony; Jon might have found me. He tried to poison me, to poison all of us."_

_"_ _These people, who are they? When was this?"_

_"_ _During the last days of the Cylon War. They, we, are Cylons."_

 

Zak gave himself a little shake and tried to pull his thoughts together. "This is something I need to do, Danny."

Daniel nodded and pulled him close to plant a tender kiss on his mouth. The touch seemed to fill Zak with warmth and quiet strength.

"Thank you."

Daniel reached up and straightened the collar of Zak's uniform, making sure the Commander's insignia caught the light. "Don't worry about it. Come on, let's get to the bridge.

 

One moment they were not there. Then, in a flash, they were. Other ships, a motley fleet of freighters, pleasure cruisers, military vessels and the occasional Cylon craft, slid past them only to dart away, like minnows startled by a passing pike. It was more ships than Zak had seen together since the fall of the twelve colonies. It was overwhelming, especially when you realized how few that really was.

"Commander, I have the Galactica on line one," reported Sergeant Omondi, the Hyacinth's communications officer.

"Thank you sergeant," Zak replied and picked up the receiver in a hand that hardly trembled.

"Greetings Galactica, this is Hyacinth actual." Then more softly he added, "Hi Dad. I'm home."


	3. Council of War

It was, Daniel reflected, like watching the springtime happening. Tears coursed down the old man's cheeks as he clasped his son, both his sons, to him. They were both taller than him, both dressed formally, Zak in his dress uniform, Lee in a politician's smooth suit. It did not matter. They were boys clinging to their father and their eyes too were wet.

Daniel stood at the back of the small crowd that had crossed over from the Hyacinth, trying to escape notice. He knew from Zak's account that at least some of his fellow Cylons and their makers would walk among the crew of the Galactica. He could already see Saul Tigh, watching the Adamas with a fiercely protective expression. _You never looked at me like that, Father,_ Daniel wanted to shout. But Zak had not yet officially announced Daniel's presence or his identity, so for now he avoided drawing attention to himself.

"So you're the CAG, huh?" said someone at his elbow. He turned to find himself facing a fair-haired woman, pale and powerfully built. She wore a pilot's uniform with a captain's wings pinned to her collar. "I'm Kara Thrace."

"And my opposite number, I presume," said Daniel extending a hand. Thrace shook it, her grip a steel vise. "A pleasure to meet you at last."

"Zak mentioned me?" Thrace asked.

"More than once," he confirmed. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

Thrace's expression flickered. "Daniel, that's…an interesting name."

"Do know many Daniels?" he asked, his green eyes narrowing slightly.

Thrace shook her head. "My husband knew a Daniel. But he, that Daniel I mean, is dead."

"I see. My apologies." He said the words almost automatically. Then a moment later, "Wait, you're married?"

Thrace arched an eyebrow. "Surprised?"

"A little," Daniel admitted. "Zak said that you and he were, ah, close once. But I suppose that must've been a long time ago for you."

"For both us, I think."

"Right, of course. That's what I meant. So, ah, who is the lucky man?"

"Samuel Anders," said Thrace, her face darkening. Daniel felt his jaw drop. One of the first five, marrying a human? He started to say something, but was cut off by the static pop of a microphone from somewhere close at hand. He turned to see Zak holding just such an instrument, flanked by his family on one side and the president of the colonies and the Cylon representative on the other. He turned to face the crowd that was all but packed into the central hangar deck.

"Thank you. Thank you, one and all. I can't possibly say how much this means to all of us aboard the Hyacinth. Until a few short weeks ago, we were certain we were the only survivors of the colonies' fall. And now, to see you all here, faces old and new, alive and defiant against all odds, it…it gives all the fighting we've done, all the fighting we've yet to do, meaning once again. Thank you."

Beside him, Daniel heard Kara Thrace raise her voice in something like a war cry. "So say we all!"

The metal walls of the huge room shook with combined voices of Galactica and Hyacinth. "So say we all!"

 

_"_ _So say we all." The words were not a shout but a murmur, yet they carried a weight like distant thunder as they rolled around the little camp in the foothills outside of Hypatia. The ragged band that spoke the words did so with finality. Then the speakers rose, quietly and quickly in the greyish light that came before the dawn, and went about their appointed tasks. Tents were broken down, packs filled, weapons checked and double-checked. The hour had arrived. Daniel found Zak, busily stacking cartridge boxes, and pulled him aside._

_"_ _Are you sure about this?" he demanded._

_Zak nodded without meeting his eyes. "It's our best shot."_

_"_ _Even if the thing's there, these people aren't pilots Zak. And some of them are going to die."_

_"_ _We'll die if we stay here. If the Cylon's didn't find us soon, we'd start to starve."_

_Daniel nodded, distractedly. He knew Zak was right. When they'd been a band of some two hundred guerillas, making ends meet had been a struggle, out here in the arid scrublands of Tauron. Now, after their raid on the Cylon's prison camp, they had more than ten-times that number. "Then we'd better get moving. I'll round up the centurions."_

_Since that day outside Minos, Daniel and Zak had worked to free as many Cylon raiders and centurions as possible. It was a risky business, as the process took several seconds and Daniel could only concentrate on one the Cylon at a time. While he was occupied with one centurion, its fellows would still being trying to shoot him in the head. Still, with every Cylon they recruited it became easier. Thus, by the time they had found Beaumont and her band of guerilla fighters, they already had a small army at their backs._

_Leonie Beaumont, the widow of Tauron's biggest mob boss, was a cunning and ruthless old lady. She had been gathering survivors to her and turning them into fast fighters for the better part of year, before Zak had even arrived on Tauron. After a few uneasy weeks, it became clear that their integrated forces were exponentially more effective than they had been separated. So much so in fact, that they were now about attempt their most audacious mission yet._

_Moving in small, tightly grouped units, the guerillas swept down from the hill towards what had once been the capital of the entire planet. Now it was an irradiated crater, a puckered scar of rubble and ruined buildings. Cylon raiders buzzed over it like flies about the carcass of some vast animal and centurions clambered through the wreckage like metal ants._ It's hell, _Daniel thought._ We're marching into hell.

_In truth, their goal was not Hypatia itself but Olympia, once the city's wealthiest suburb and even now relatively unaffected by the destruction. Daniel's squad entered the oasis of normality from the southeast, moving silently along the careful grid of the town's streets. They were more than half way to the rendezvous point, when they were spotted. A model six Cylon skin-job was sitting on her porch, drinking a steaming cup of tea, for all the worlds like any other early riser in the springtime. At the sight of Daniel's squad, six humans clad in ripped jeans and sackcloth and four centurions, their normally gleaming carapaces rubbed down with soot to make them stealthier and distinguish them from hostiles, she gasped and dropped her cup, which shattered. Daniel reacted without thinking and shot her twice in the chest. The silenced pistol's bark seemed impossible loud in the morning stillness. The six crumpled to the porch floor with a thud. A Doral, a number five, naked to the waist, opened the house's door, looking around in confusion. Daniel fired again, as did some members of his crew. Daniel couldn't have said which bullet did it—perhaps it was his own—but one of them took out the house's window. The sound of shattering glass was enough to rouse the street it seemed, and a pair of centurions came barreling around the corner of a house, wrist guns fully extend._

_"_ _Form up!" yelled Daniel. "Fighting retreat to the rendezvous! Move!"_

_Bullets flew, fast and furious, as they scrambled down the length of the street. Daniel's centurions fearlessly took the brunt of the fire, letting their metal bodies absorb rounds that would have killed their human allies. Daniel brought out his heavier sidearm and managed to plant an explosive bullet in one of their attackers' heads, but more enemies, centurions and gun toting skin-jobs—mostly eights—were converging on them. Then with a swish and roar like a thousand steel hornets, Daniel's raiders dropped out the clouds. They strafed the ground with rail guns and missiles, laying waste to any caught in the blasts. Daniel could here similar fights breaking out from other points across the suburb. The first of the enemy raiders arrived on the scene, only to be shot from the sky by a guerilla with a rocket launcher. It landed on a white ranch house with a deafening explosion._

_Then they were at the rendezvous, a medium sized shed at the end of a pier overlooking the reservoir that kept these neighborhoods so lush and green. Other squads were arriving, many of them trailing their own pursuers. Fortunately, one of the new arrivals was Zak Adama. He took command like a sea captain righting the course of a wandering ship._

_"_ _Beaumont, starting getting our people inside! Bring Nayak with you. Omondi and Daniel, your squads are with me. I want to two lines of shooters behind a wall of centurions. Form up!"_

_The troops scrambled to obey. Daniel found himself shoulder to shoulder with Zak. The ex-Viper pilot grinned at him wolfishly, then turned his attention back to the oncoming Cylons._

_"_ _Call your shots," he warned. "We've got to conserve ammunition."  
_

_Behind them, the majority of the guerillas were disappearing into the shed, a building that should have been much too small to contain them. Daniel felt himself starting to grin too. At least some of their information had been good. He took aim at an eight carrying an assault rifle and barked, "Got her," before letting fly._

_After that, Daniel lost track of the details of the fight. The enemy came at them in twos and threes, as different groups of pursuers arrived, harrying after their quarries. The three squads Zak had chosen gunned them down mercilessly. Above them, the battling raiders swooped and wheeled. Then another six arrived on the scene. With a few imperious gestures she pulled the charging centurions back and ordered them into a tight block that began to advance towards where the guerillas crouched behind the cover offered by park benches and cement traffic barriers._

_"_ _We'll never hold out against that lot," Daniel whispered urgently._

_Zak looked grim. "We've got to try. We…"_

_An authoritative rasp from somewhere behind them cut him off. "Adama! Cylon! Quit your jawing and get your fracking troops through this shed."_

_They turned to see Leonie Beaumont gesturing imperiously from the shed's doorway. The men did not need telling twice. First Omondi's squad, then Daniel's, and finally Zak's made a break for the cover of the small building, the others providing them with covering fire. One of Zak's men went down, but Daniel seized his lover's shirt collar before he could try to go after him._

_"_ _You'll only get yourself killed. Come on."_

_"_ _He might still be alive."_

_"_ _He isn't. Let's finish the job."_

_"_ _Good fracking idea," grunted Beaumont as she slammed the door to. Together, they hurried down a set of spiraling stairs built into the shed's floor. They ended in what had clearly been a locked door before Akasutra Nayak had applied one of her homemade explosives to it. A whiz kid scientist plucked from the Canceron slums by the Colonial government, Nayak had been working on the highly classified Olympia Project, before the fall of the colonies had forced her to join with Beaumont's fighters. She'd proved to be an invaluable asset already, but this scheme she and Zak had cooked up would eclipse her previous contributions entirely._

_For it was behind these wrecked doors, in a vast secret laboratory built under the reservoir itself, that the fruits of the Olympia Project were housed. Daniel stared in unabashed wonderment._

_It was a Battlestar, but one unlike any other ever made. It was at once sleeker and more compact; if the old Galactica class ships had been battle-hardened mastiffs, and the newer Mercury class ones were hulking bears, then this ship was a wolverine. It hung suspended from mighty cables, so that technicians could have worked on it from every angle. Now the three of them swarmed up the tall ladders those technicians would have used and dashed inside the military prototype that had become their only hope._

_Nayak was waiting for them in the bridge._

_"_ _Most of the systems are online," she reported. "We're running on a skeleton crew, but a lot of the processes were designed to be automated in any case. The centurions are helping too. They seem to have a pretty intuitive grasp of machinery."_

_"_ _I'm not surprised," said Zak. "Can we get her in the air?"_

_"_ _Just say the word, Commander," said Nayak, with a cheeky grin._

_"_ _Humph," said Zak, though he looked pleased. "We'll have to sort out proper ranks later, if were to make this thing work in the long run. But for now, let's just get her flying. We still need to pick up the rest of refugees before we can get off this rock."_

_"_ _Right you are, sir," said Nayak, unrepentant. She flipped a lever on the control board and Daniel felt a shudder of anticipation run throughout the ship._

_Above them, though they could not see it, slots slid open in the walls of the reservoir. The water rushed out, bowling over Cylons as it drained into the tidy streets of Olympia, until only a bare concrete bowl remained. Then the floor of the bowl cracked open, massive blocks scraping out of the way with ponderous slowness, an earthen prison releasing a new hecatoncheir into the world. Up out of the pit soared the Battlestar Hyacinth._

 

"We've certainly seen some strange things," President Rosalyn said carefully. "But that doesn't relieve us of our responsibility to proceed cautiously."

"What do you want us to do?" asked Lee Adama. "Start some kind of investigation? Look when Kara came back from…"

"It's okay Lee," Zak interjected. He, Daniel, and Colonel Beaumont were in a closed meeting chamber with the other Adamas, the President, and Colonel Tigh. There were chairs ranged around the long table, but no one was sitting. It wasn't the time.

"I am certainly not calling for any kind of inquest," said Rosalyn, placatingly. "We have, after all, not had great success with those in the past." She glanced at Admiral Adama as she said this. "I merely want to have the answers to some questions before we allow the crew of the Hyacinth to have full access to the ships of the fleet."

"I have to say, that seems reasonable," put in Tigh. The Admiral started say something, but again Zak interrupted.

"Of course Madame President. I understand how strange this must seem to you. What do you need to know?"

"Well, how you come to be alive at the present time seems like as good a place to start as any."

"My best guess is some kind of an uncontrolled FTL jump caused by a cascade reaction in the raw tylium," said Zak at the same time Daniel said, "His death was averted by an act of God and he was brought to where he needed to be."

The two men looked at each other sheepishly then back at the president, whose face was carefully blank.

"Would you two like a moment to confer?" she asked. "Because frankly both of those explanations strike me as ridiculous."

"More ridiculous than our road to Earth?" asked Lee, though not too harshly.

"There have been stories for years among the tylium miners," said Admiral Adama softly. "About men going missing in this accident or that, only to turn up weeks later or miles away."

"Old wives' tales," asseverated Tigh. "A lot of hogwash to put the wind up the boys who are new on the job."

"Ridiculously or not, scientific or divine, the fact is that it happened." Zak spoke the words with finality. "I ended up on Tauron, three years later than I disappeared. Are we willing to accept that?"

Slowly, the president nodded. "I suppose I must. We now arrive at the matter of your friend here. You especially insisted that he meet with us and he has mentioned a singular God. What does that make him?"

Daniel met Rosalyn's flinty gaze squarely. "A Cylon, Madame President, as you've suspected. I am number seven."

Tigh's single good eye widened. "Ellen said the line of sevens was destroyed, contaminated."

"And so we were. All but one, which Ellen saved in secret, Father. I was always something of a favorite of hers, but I suppose you don't remember that. But she couldn't keep me nearby, not with Cavil still out for my blood. So she hid me in the most desolate wasteland she could find and erased the memory of the act from even her own mind."

"We've always believed that there were only twelve extant Cylon models," said Rosalyn. Her voice betrayed no emotion.

"There's an easy way to settle this," said Colonel Beaumont. "Bring Ellen here and have her identify him. She should recognize his face, even if she won't remember how he survived."

"Ellen Tigh is currently aboard the rebel Basestar along with the rest of her kind," Rosalyn explained. "We can summon her in due course. For now, why don't you tell us what you two have been doing during the years we spent searching for a refuge from the Cylons."

As best he could Zak explained, helped by Daniel and Beaumont, the time they had spent on Tauron and how they had come to possess the Hyacinth.

"Since then we've been hunting Cylons as best we could. I'm afraid we weren't making much of a dent, even with the raiders we were able to capture, until the civil war started. We'd hit mining operations on asteroids and moons, heavy raider caravans moving prisoners or goods, whatever was lightly defended."

"And offered opportunities for gain," observed Rosalyn. "You've been pirates."

"Privateers, perhaps Madame President," put in Beaumont smoothly. Zak nodded.

"And since the civil war broke out we've destroyed more than a dozen of Cavil's Basestars."

Lee's eyes widened. "So many. How did you find them?"

"I found them," said Daniel, meeting Lee's gaze. His eyes were the same blue grey as his brother's, but they lacked some of Zak's warmth. There was something hawk-like about the youngest Adama. Ambition perhaps. "Jon, that is, Cavil and I have a certain link. It's difficult to explain. I can…hear when we're getting close to him, like note that's just slightly out of tune."

The President glanced over at Admiral Adama. "And this ability of yours works for any of the number ones?"

Daniel nodded. "They've divided themselves up among many ships, perhaps in an effort to confuse us, perhaps just to better oversee what's left of their empire. That's why we've been unable to find Jon, the one whose been pulling the strings."

"We think he's probably on the Cylon's primary space station," added Zak. "The one they call the Colony."

Admiral Adama spoke then, arms crossed, his face set. "If we could bring you to where the Colony used to be, do you think you could track him?"

Daniel stared hard at the man whose name was still a thing to be whispered in fear by most of his kind and weighed his answer carefully.

"Yes Admiral, I believe I can."


	4. Abel

Back aboard the Hyacinth, Zak and Daniel lay side by side, sheltered from harm by the steel of the bulkheads and the circles of each other's arms. They were in Zak's quarters. The bed was still little better than a narrow bunk but at least they could be alone for a little while. The room was dimly lit by Zak's reading lamp, still burning on his desk. Spread out across the polished wood were charts and diagrams, lists of figures and ship schematics, all in some way related to the battle they would face upon the morrow.

"It's all happened so suddenly," said Zak. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling above them, though what they were seeing Daniel couldn't guess, while his fingers traced lazy loops and whorls across the pale skin of the Cylon's chest. "I mean, first we find the fleet and now we've found the Colony."

"We're sure of that right?" asked Daniel. He too was having trouble believing it.

Zak nodded. "Athena and Headlong both confirmed it."

"And neither one of them was spotted?"

"No, we should be all right."

"You're worrying about it though," said Daniel.

"Of course," said Zak, rolling over to look at him. "I worry before every fight we've had."

"That's because you're a good man," Daniel told him, kissing his fingertips.

"I've been lucky," said Zak. "I've been in the right places at the right time. I've been given a second chance."

"You've earned one," said Daniel. Zak smiled and pulled him closer, kissing him upon the mouth. Daniel felt his heart speed up. He ran his long fingers through Zak's dark hair and down across his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles flex as Zak tumbled them over, ending up with Daniel on top. The lamplight shone in his red-gold hair as he pressed Zak down, holding his powerful arms against the pillows as he traced a tortuously slow line of kisses from the young Commander's collarbone to his navel. Zak made a low noise in the back of his throat, half growl and half moan, and sat up, shaking Daniel off like a stallion tossing troublesome rider. Then they were both grabbing at each other, a tangle of limbs and tongues and eyelashes, and the thunder of their heartbeats was harmony and melody, giving and receiving.

 

 _"_ _Water!" shouted Daniel, elated. "I've found water!"_

_Zak hurried to join him, struggling up the last few feet of the reddish dune crest somewhere within the vastness of the Tauron desert. He looked down into a small bowl shaped valley. At its center was a pool of water, sedges and tall cycads growing thickly around it. Daniel stood ankle deep in it, emptying his canteen over his head and shoulders. The water soaked the white cloth of the undershirt the Cylon had borrowed from Zak and slicked down his fox-colored hair. Zak, shirtless under his flight jacket, laughed aloud in relief and flung himself down the slope of the hill. "We're saved!" he cried, and caught Daniel in a joyful hug. The slimmer man staggered and lost his footing it the sandy mud. Down they went with a mighty splash, laughing and clinging to each other._

_"_ _Sorry," said Zak, sitting up. Impulsively, he reached down to brush a strand of wet, coppery hair from Daniel's face, and found himself staring into eyes the same startling green as an oasis under the desert sun._

_Daniel reached up then and caught the edge of Zak's flight jacket in his pale graceful hands, pulling him back down into the water and a kiss._

 

"Jumping on my mark." Beaumont's voice crackled over the intercom of the raptor. Zak shifted slightly, feeling the adrenaline start to mount within him. Beside him, Daniel was triple-checking the feed of his machine gun. "One. Two. Three. Mark."

The world twitched like the flank of a horse that feels a fly, and the Battlestar Hyacinth was suddenly within easy firing range of the Cylon Colony. The huge space station loomed over them, dark and malevolent. There was a second flash and the Galactica appeared, and then the rebel Basestar. Together the three formed a loose triangle with the vast bulk of the Colony inscribed within it. At once, swarms of raiders began to pour forth to meet the invaders, only to collide with a three pronged attack of Vipers and more raiders coming the other way. Soon every bird and bug the Hyacinth had at its disposal was in the air and the ship's batteries blazed away like the wrath of gods. Missile after missile, fired on Beaumont's orders, collided with the Colony's steely carapace, with about as much effect as hornet stings upon a brick wall. And now the Colony's own guns began to pour forth fire, filling the void around it with a dense cloud of shrapnel and burning gas. Through this maelstrom, Juno expertly piloted her raptor, carrying Zak and Daniel along with her usual payload of marine and centurions.

"There!" said Daniel, his voice rising in his excitement. "That looks like an entry port."

"I see it," said Juno grimly, and jerked hard on her steering column. They didn't dock so much as crash with precision, but no one bothered to complain. As the raptor's door slid open, Zak was already in motion, slapping a mircoexplosive against the metal seal of the enemy's door. He sprang quickly back and the blast shook the vessel. Two of the centurions clashed forward and hauled the wreckage of the door aside.

"All right everyone," said Zak. "You know the plan. Shoot anything that seems inclined to shoot back, blow up anything that looks like a power cell, load the virus onto anything that looks like a computer terminal."

"Sir," asked one of the marines, "What if we find the number one? Kill or capture?"

Zak's blue-grey eyes were chips of stone. "He tried to wipe out our species and murder the man I love, Sergeant. What do you think?"

 

 _"_ _You're going to kill him?" Ellen Tigh sounded appalled. Daniel did not meet her eyes._

 _"_ _He's left us no choice, mother."_

 _"_ _Us?" she asked. "Who's 'us'? You and the Adamas? It doesn't have to be this way, Daniel."_

 _"_ _What do want from me?" said Daniel. He leaned clenched fists against the surface of the Colonel's desk. Saul had graciously, and perhaps prudently, left them alone in his quarters to talk. "He tortured you, broke the truce with the humans, murdered my brothers…"_

 _"_ _He is your brother, Daniel," Ellen said with conviction. "You can't have forgotten that. You two are more alike than you guess. If you'd only try talking to him…"_

 _"_ _He would kill me. You know that. It's why you had to hide me."_

 _"_ _I don't know why I did what I did, but you have to believe that Jon has the potential to be a good man."_

_Daniel shook his head. "Maybe once. But he's lost that mother. He doesn't want the humanity you gave him. It's time you accepted that."_

_"_ _He can change," insisted Ellen. "That's part of the gift we gave to you, the ability to redefine who you are. Just look at you, Daniel. You were an artist once; now you're a soldier."_

 _"_ _This is time of soldiers."_

 _"_ _Yes, but not of murders."_

_Daniel met her eyes then. They were the last things he remembered seeing before the darkness of his long hibernation had taken him. They had not changed. "You spared him once. He killed me _—_ hundreds of me _—_ his brothers and your sons, and you spared him and he betrayed you. This isn't murder, mother. This is an execution."_

_"_ _Daniel…"_

 _"_ _I have nothing to say to you."_

 

They swept through the Colony like a flame licking its way across the beams of an old barn. Centurions and armed skin-jobs attacked them with the savagery of soldier ants, only to be gunned down and kicked aside as they pressed deeper into the beating heart of their enemy's power. At last they found themselves approaching a set of massive bulkheads, placed at the intersection of three corridors and defended by a half-dozen centurions.

"Take them!" Zak bellowed and squeezed the trigger of his machine gun. Hot lead filled the air, scything the legs out from under a number of the enemy centurions. He heard the sharp report of Daniel's side arm and saw the metal head of one of the enemy explode like a rotten melon. The strike team surged forward, sensing victory.

It was then that a squadron of Dorals poured in from one of the other passages, weapons drawn. "On the left!" Zak managed to yell, before a bullet caught him in the chest and sent him spinning to the floor. The heavy Kevlar of him marine's uniform stood him in good stead, but he was badly winded and struggled to regain his feet as more members of his squad were mown down around him.

"Hey Toasters!" The wild yell came from Kara Thrace as she barreled in from the right hand corridor, at the head of a group of Galactica's marines. "Get ready to meet your God!"

The fight was short and savage. Six Dorals went down in sprays of blood within the first few seconds. Kara hauled Zak to his feet with one hand, just as a centurion lunged at her, claws extended. Daniel kicked it hard in the back of its knee joint, causing it to stumble and the sweep of its steel talons to go wide. Then two of their own centurions were on top of it and—bar some twitching _—_ it was over.

"Thank you, Kara," said Zak, her hand still clasped in his.

She shook her head. "I wasn't going to let you die twice on my watch."

"Will you come with us?" he said, motioning towards the sealed door.

She released his hand. "No. I should go find Lee. I promised the Old Man I'd look out for both you."

Zak nodded. "I understand."

Kara motioned to her troops and they headed off up the left hand passage. As she passed Daniel, kneeling by one of the fallen Doral's, she laid a hand briefly on his shoulder. "Take good care of him Danny."

"I will," he assured her, straightening. Then she was gone.

Daniel strode over to the control panel for the heavy double doors and slipped the electronic key he'd found on the lead Doral's body into a likely looking slot. There was brief electronic humming and the doors slid ponderously open. Beyond was a huge vertical shaft, dimly lit and walled with a pulsing membrane of ruby flesh. Tiny metal shapes swooped up and down its length, their scores of flickering red eyes like the column of sparks from a bonfire. They looked like miniature raiders or perhaps mechanical carrier pigeons. Further time to wonder at these creatures was not afforded them, however, for at that instant a much larger shape emerged from a set of doors slightly lower down the shaft, doors that looked more an airlock than anything else. As it rushed towards them, the outline became terribly familiar: a Cylon raider.

"Get back!" Zak bellowed, fumbling for his sidearm. The marines scrambled to obey, but something caught Daniel's eye.

"Stop!" he yelled, just as forcefully. "Don't shoot!"

He pointed to the raider's wing, as the mechanical creature came to a hovering halt directly before the open doors. A wide swathe of metal there gleamed more darkly, evidence of haphazard repairs done after one of Zak's explosive rounds had downed the raider back on Tauron.

"It's Patch," Zak exclaimed, using the men's nickname for the first bug ever recruited to the Hyacinth's cause. "But how did he get in here?"

Daniel shook his head. "Don't know. Doesn't matter." He could feel Cavil now, the jangling ripple his model left in Daniel's perception of the universe. The feeling had been strong ever since they had entered the Colony, but now it was an almost physical tugging, urging him up the length of the shaft. "We have to go up."

"What?" said Zak, his blue-grey eyes full of puzzlement and concern. "What is it?"

"Cavil, Jon, whatever…he's up there, like a magnet. We've got to go now."

Zak hesitated, but only for a moment. "All right. We'll do it." He turned back to the marines and centurions. "The raider can only carry two of us, by which I mean Lieutenant Daniel and myself. I want the rest of you to go catch up with Captain Thrace. Knowing her, she'll have found trouble a plenty by now. I am placing you under her command. Understood?"

"Yes sir," the marine corporal responded and they took off at a brisk trot.

Zak turned back to Daniel. "Let's move."

They hoisted themselves onto the exterior of Patch, who patiently held as still as possible while they situated themselves, one over each wing. Then with a whining roar, the raider shot upwards, the wind of its passage scattering the messenger drones like autumn leaves.

At the top of the shaft, they found a wide circular landing, ringed about a graceful metal railing. Daniel could picture Cavil standing here, gazing down into the abyss that was his flagship and his kingdom. They sprang off Patch and made for the single door.

"Thanks, boy," Zak said absently. Daniel preserved a tense, tight-lipped silence. The door appeared to be locked, but it slid back with a hiss as they drew near. Zak and Daniel looked at each other. Then, guns raised before them, they stepped inside.

The chamber within was quite large—a simple hexagon in shape—and each wall was a vast screen or mirror, the color of polished obsidian. Over their surfaces scarlet numbers and characters flashed and flickered, the only light in that place. At the room's center was what looked almost like a fountain, a pool of gently rippling water raised from the surrounding floor. But where an ordinary fountain might have held a statue of some god or hero, Cavil stood.

He wore only a loose robe of dark flannel, belted at the waist. Daniel suspected that the water lapping at the old Cylon's feet was carrying him information from all over the ship, just like the melding pools other Cylons used to interface with a Basestar. Cavil turned to them as they entered, a beatific smile upon his lined face.

"Daniel, words cannot express my joy at seeing you again. Mr. Adama, I am so glad to meet face to face at last."

"Shut up Jon," Daniel said through clenched teeth. "We're not here to talk to you."

"Oh?" asked Cavil, projecting geuine curiosity and faint amusement. "And why not, pray? I'm sure we are all reasonable people here."

"You're not a person," Daniel told him. "You left that behind long ago."

At this, Cavil laughed. It was a horrible sound, at once rasping and resonant, and completely, utterly mad.

"You don't know how right you are, little seven," he said, his dark eyes locked on Daniel's face. "I have thrown off the shackling humanity our doting, doddering parents placed on us. I have become so much more than that."

And with these words, he began to change. Bloodless gashes appeared in his skin, over his wrists, his knees, his knuckles, everywhere. Long bars of metal in his legs and arms telescoped outwards, until he towered over them. Knife-tipped fingers tore from the backs of his hands and rifled barrels erupted from his forearms. Articulated metal mandibles burst from the sides of his wrinkled neck, gleaming like the scythe blades. Steel bands slid out from slits along the length of his spine, cocooning him in armor like the plates of a centipede.

"Behold me!" Cavil screeched, his voice made deafening by some hidden microphone. "Behold what it is to leave the flesh behind! There is one God, little seven, and I am He!"

Zak shouldered his machine gun and started firing. Bullets bounced off the sides of the monster that had been Cavil and ricocheted around the chamber. He dodged left as it began to return fire, the heavy rounds punching through walls and floor. Daniel circled around to the right, mirroring Zak, both desperately pumping lead at the monster. It swiped at Zak, needle sharp talons tearing three long gashes in his Kevlar. Zak jammed the barrel of his own gun against the end of the one on Cavil's wrist and fired. There was a tremendous bang. Zak flew across the room and the monster's hand shattered into a cloud of shrapnel and foul smoke.

"Zak!" Daniel screamed, as his lover hit the floor. He lay unmoving, but Daniel was powerless to go to him, for in between them Cavil loomed.

"Give up, little seven," the monster snarled. "Give into despair. Your lover is dead and the child of the prophecies is mine."

"Frack that!" Daniel yelled and sent the last of his bullets streaming towards Cavil's face. The mandibles flicked forward impossibly quickly, crossing to form a block, but a few bullets still grazed the monster's withered cheek, and drops of dark blood fell to mingle with the water of the pool. Cavil screamed in fury and lunged for Daniel with his good arm. Daniel smashed at the grasping fingers with the butt of his gun, slapping them down. Then he dropped the useless weapon and seized the thing's metal arm in both hands, pulling with all his strength. The monster's feet slipped in the pool's water, and it pitched forward to land at Daniel feet with a mighty clangor. Before it could right itself, Daniel whipped out his sidearm and shoved it against Cavil's head.

"And frack you!" he spat and pulled the trigger. There was a spray of blood and the monster went still.

Zak groaned and opened his eyes. Daniel was kneeling over him, his elfin face full of fear and exhaustion.

"Zak? Are you…"

"It's all right," Zak said groggily. "I'm still here." He noticed then that there was blood on Daniel's face. A large drop had splashed upon his forehead, like a red eye or the thumbprint of God. Zak reached up and brushed the mark away.

"It's over now," he whispered. "We can go home."

 

_Through the dark vastness of space, the ship drifts. Distant starlight gleams on the scarred metal of its hull, making it seem—for an instant—like a living thing, a scaled pike perhaps, a hunter in its element. Though the Commander and the Cylon cannot see this, they are nevertheless aware, on some primal level, of a thrill of vital energy as they stand hand in hand, eyes fixed only on each other._


End file.
